


Whipped Cream and Consequences

by VerdantVulpus



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Consequences, M/M, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Whipped Cream, useful cooking spray tips, zero impulse control
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:35:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25395487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VerdantVulpus/pseuds/VerdantVulpus
Summary: This fic includes Thea, my OC from my Unforeseen series, but the story is self contained.After Aziraphale's prank goes wrong Crowley insists that the angel will never get the better of him. So Aziraphale turns to Thea for help.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 12
Collections: Week 23: Prank War





	Whipped Cream and Consequences

Crowley was laughing.

Normally the sound of Crowley’s laugh made Aziraphale feel light and effervescent. There were few sounds in Heaven or Earth as wonderful to the angel as Crowley’s laughter.

But this time the demon was laughing at _him_. Somewhat dampened the fluttering feelings just a bit.

Aziraphale pursed his lips and gave Crowley his darkest glare but, unsurprisingly, failed to inspire any shame in the fiend.

“I’ll be back with some lunch, Angel,” Crowley grinned, giving Aziraphale’s shoulder a squeeze as he walked by. He was still sniggering! “Keep trying to teach that little shit in there. You’re good at _that_ ”.

“Who’s a little shit?” Thea asked as she came out of the studio. She wiped her hands clean with a paint stained cloth. “He can’t be talking about me. I’m a fecking delight.”

Aziraphale didn’t know who to harumph at. He settled for Thea, since Crowley was already out the door.

“What’s up?” She asked.

“Crowley doesn’t believe that I could ever prank him,” Aziraphale whined. Thea’s multi-coloured eyes widened in happy surprise. “I tried this morning and he saw it coming a mile away and he’s been laughing at me ever since. It is very frustrating.”

“Maybe you’re overthinking it? The best pranks are simple,” Thea advised, untying her smock and hanging it on the studio door. Aziraphale felt his mood brighten immediately.

“Perhaps you’d be willing to assist me in one,” he said conspiratorially.

“No ‘ _perhaps_ ’ about it,” Thea said, grabbing the bucket she used for mixing liquid acrylics and jogging to the kitchen. “Gotta be quick. Come on.”

Aziraphale hurried beside her, intrigued and excited and giggled a little when she pulled a can of cooking spray from the cupboard, very curious to see where this was going. He wasn’t expecting her to start coating the inside of the bucket with the grease, and made a sound of surprise.

“Lesson one. Whipped cream will stick to the sides of the bucket, so always give your buckets a good coat of cooking oil,” She grinned.

“Whipped cream?”

“Yeah. Fill’er up!” Thea held the bucket out for him. He blinked at her for a moment, until she snapped her fingers a couple times and, Oh! Yes! He miracled the bucket full of the fluffiest whipped cream. Thea laughed mischievously and hurried over to the balcony.

Aziraphale’s grin widened. “Oh my dear. Do you think he’ll be expecting something?”

“He won't expect me to have the audacity, which is funny because in actuality I am full of audacity at all times,” Thea chortled, pulling open the sliding door before turning a more serious look on the angel. “However, on occasion, there are consequences for my actions, which is a real bummer. The likely consequences for this particular action may require divine intervention. So please keep in mind that you asked me for this knowing full well that I have no impulse control.”

“Of course,”

“Good. Now, quick. Give me an egg.”

“An egg?”

“Yes, Aziraphale. Hurry. Snap up an egg!”

He did, and handed it over, a little less certain.

“I hope you don’t intend to hit Crowley with that, Thea. He’s a demon, but that could still bruise,” Aziraphale fussed. He wanted a win, but he didn’t want to have Crowley cross with them. The demon’s tantrums could last years.

“Oh, this isn’t a weapon, Aziraphale,” she laughed. “This is a _distarction_.”

With that she looked over the railing and lobbed the egg in a gentle arc as Crowley exited the building seven floors below. Aziraphale’s wide blue eyes followed its trajectory as Thea counted to three beside him before hurling the contents of the bucket over the balcony as well.

The cooking spray trick really worked well. None of the whipped cream stayed in the bucket.

Meanwhile, down on the pavement, Crowley pulled up short as the egg smashed just ahead of him. He turned, barking a laugh and pointing a victorious finger up at them a second before the bucket-load of whipped cream landed square on his face. Aziraphale gave a loud whoop of triumph and Thea clapped her hands excitedly.

“Victoria Mia!” Aziraphale called down at Crowley...but the demon had vanished leaving only a few drips of cream and a smashed egg on the pavement.

“Angel,” Crowley’s voice growled behind them. Thea and Aziraphale both jumped and spun around with guilty squeaks. Crowley, still covered in whipped cream, managed a much more intimidating glare than Aziraphale had. “Thea,” He hissed, kicking the menace up several notches as he advanced.

Thea tugged urgently on Aziraphale’s sleeve. “Consequences!” She squealed. “Consequences!”

Crowley took two long strides onto the balcony and shoved Thea over the railing in one fluid movement. She shrieked in shock and terror, and Aziraphale gasped at the absolute rudeness.

“Crowley!”

“Ah, she’s fine, Angel,” Crowley drawled, waving dismissively before snapping himself free of dripping cream. The room filled with a piercing scream as Thea fell through the ceiling, landing on the couch before bouncing onto the floor in a sprawl of brown hair and frayed nerves.

“little shit,” he hissed at her, but he was smiling. Aziraphale decided to chalk that up as a win, although he probably would owe Thea a very nice bottle of whiskey after his failed intervention.

“You’re _ordering_ lunch now, Angel,” Crowley snapped halfheartedly, flopping onto the couch and offering Thea a hand up.

“Yes, fine,” Aziraphale said warmly, tossing Thea an apologetic look as she half collapsed on the couch.

Maybe two bottles.


End file.
